Bottle Cap For Your Thoughts, Boss?
by Dawnandspike4eva
Summary: This wasn't some epic Shakespearean sonnet that she could recite in a beautiful fashion. So let's just say, we won't be comparing thee to a summers day. Maybe something more like a fist fight with a Deathclaw, ending in the inevitable removal of ones heart from their ever encompassing chest cavity. God...love really sucked. Part of my "Deacon Liked That' Series.


A pathetic chem addiction was nothing compared to this. Her feelings for Deacon ran much deeper than some junkies itch for a fix. No. Chem addiction was a joke in contrast to this affliction that plagued her. There was a time during their travels when she tried to fight how she felt. At least, as far as she can remember she had tried. She wasn't expecting to fall for someone in this hellhole of a world. Despite the fact that she had become one of the most skilled fighters in the Commonwealth, when she was around him she felt fragile. She felt utterly breakable and fumbling, not knowing exactly how to navigate her words. She had never been that person before, things were always so easy with her husband.

Could she possibly explain the feelings of being desperately in love with Deacon? A man who allowed lies to taint the taste of his tongue, much more than he deigned to speak the oh-so-boring truth. This wasn't some epic Shakespearean sonnet that she could recite in a beautiful fashion. No, her feelings were something much more agonizing and confusing. So let's just say, we won't be comparing thee to a summers day. Maybe something more like a fist fight with a Deathclaw, ending in the inevitable removal of ones heart from their ever encompassing chest cavity.

Deacon had a fire and intensity that made it challenging to shake him. The way he laughed, with that somewhat gravely and lighthearted chuckle. The fact that he always wore those stupid sunglasses, she was pretty sure his eyes had developed an intense sensitivity to light by now. His disguises were just another way of hiding who he was from anyone who might be interested. But Sole knew who he was, without much effort at all.

Her mind drifted to those few precious nights when they would watch the Rad Storms from a safe distance. The bright green swirls of color, whirling around in the sky- the flashes of lightning striking violently at the ground below them. It was both terrifying and somehow it was also rather beautiful. She was afraid of storms…it was an odd quality for such a brave woman. He told her that if they watched them together from the safety of a shelter, she wouldn't be so uneasy. He was right. He usually was though. Even when Deacon lied it was to prove some sickeningly true lesson. They would talk about their favorite things, and she would tell him about the old world. She loved those moments, the ones that belonged solely to them. They were best friends, no one could deny that. Even Deacon had come to admit that he liked having her around, even though it was tough for him to utter those painfully honest words.

"Bottle cap for your thoughts, Boss?" Deacon asked staring towards Sole in a rather interesting fashion. The radio playing softly in the background, both of them seated across the room from each other.

"Oh, I was just thinking about how terribly you burnt those Brahmin steaks the last night." Sole jested, her eyes filling up with a playful smile.

"Psh," Deacon scoffed and flung his hands in the air. "You crush my soul with these insults. You do realize this, right?"

"Oh hush," She grinned. "You're impervious to insults."

"True. The plus side to having a black synth heart." Deacon slid his glasses down for a moment and shot her a quick wink before covering his eyes again.

"Shut your face, jerk!" Sole shouted and tossed a small pillow in his direction.

She remembered when Deacon had lied to her about being a synth. Made up some big story about a recall code, and she bought it for a couple days. Once she realized he was playing games with her, she tossed the paper in front of him her eyes staring him down intently. She told him she would never take a chance of hurting him in any way, but that she knew the truth. Deacon was pretty sure that she would always figure out the truth in the end. It may have taken Sole some time to uncover how deep the lies ran, but she would always get there eventually. He was a jerk for lying to her, but regardless of those silly lies she still trusted him with her life.

"Careful old lady," Deacon chuckled. "Don't hurt yourself."

"Oh really funny!" Sole pouted.

She looked away from him, pretending to be utterly offended. She closed her eyes and pondered it for a moment, what it meant to be the Sole Survivor. The girl who was put on ice for 200 years, as the world whirred all around her. Time passed and the entire world kept changing, while she remained frozen in the horror that was her reality. While she rested unmoving and unchanging, the world progressed into this beast that Deacon knows. This is all he has ever known, and no matter how many stories she told him- it was all he would ever know. It was unusual to think of all the things he had endured in his life, things that made her wish she had become unfrozen much sooner. It was on odd feeling realizing that they had both lost so much, and only truly had one another left. Why had nothing happened between besides a few clearly awkward moments of sexual tension? In most situations two people so clearly attracted to one another would be incapable of keeping themselves apart. This was different though, this world had made them fearful.

As her initially jesting pout allowed her thoughts to progress- the expression on her face drifted from playful scowl, to war hardened warrior. The mind truly is a dangerous thing, especially Sole's mind. With a headspace filled with painful memories, and a jagged path that quickly turned down a rather harsh road- there was little room for fantasies. She knew she couldn't have Deacon. Being with him in the way that her heart ached for, was too much to ask. What was that phrase? Don't shit where you eat? Her father used to say it, she absolutely hated it. At that moment though, she realized what it truly meant. Taking a chance with Deacon, meant a risk that she would lose the only thing that held her together.

"Where'd you go, Boss?" Deacon asked, taking a step towards her now. There was worry in his voice, but it wasn't evident in his hidden expression.

"I'm here." Her lips quickly pressed together to force the air of a smile, but it faded rather quickly.

"Seemed like you took a trip somewhere," he assured her. "Anywhere good?"

"Nowhere special." She forced a breathy laugh from the shield of her lips.

It was obvious that her expression was pained, as her eyes drifted somewhere else. There were so many horrible things in this world, creatures that terrorized them even in their sleep. But the most frightening was not what was new to this world, but rather the things that were lost. It wasn't like the old world was perfect, far from it. But at least in that world it felt okay to take chances, it was okay to feel. In this world being numb felt like a necessary evil to survive. Sole wasn't totally convinced that surviving really meant that they were living. She was so lonely sometimes, even with him right beside of her. She looked around at the people of this world, and so many of them held onto hope. They actually could still hope for a brighter future- these people believed that things would get better. Sole wasn't so convinced, and most of the time that didn't bother her. This world was strange and it was frightening, it was enough to make most people quake with terror. The thing is Sole didn't mind it, she didn't mind the fighting or risking her life on a daily basis. She enjoyed helping people and she had gotten used to struggling to stay alive. With Deacon beside her they had endured many trials, but each and every one of them was an adventure. The problem was, Sole didn't want to hold onto her feelings with fear anymore. She could be so brave in the face of danger, yet backed away like a whimpering fool at the thought of confronting her emotions. She really was hopeless.

Her ears were drowned with the sound of the radio's volume being turned higher. Sole looked over at Deacon who was standing in front of her with a familiar playful grin on his gruff face. She adored his face, even though it was so often hidden with those foolish sunglasses. She had seen his eyes though, of course she had. His eyes were the color of the ocean, the way it looked before the fallout. It was swirls of blues and greens all wrapped up in a beautiful rounded shape.

"May I have this dance, milady?" Deacon's expression was entirely blank as he offered his hand to Sole, who was sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Deacon…?" Sole gave him a questioning look, unsure of where this joke was heading. She knew never to take him too seriously, but on occasion he had rather earnest moments.

"Shhh-" He hushed her quickly, still holding his hand out towards her. "I'm trying to be like the guys in those old world novels. Don't ruin it with your big mouth."

"Of course." Sole grinned friskily, biting her bottom lip. "You certainly may have this dance, Sir."

She allowed her hand to slide into the inside of his ever so gently. His skin was warm, much warmer than hers was. Even though his fingers were rough and calloused, she didn't mind in the slightest. His rather large fingers wrapped around her hand as he began to help lift her from her seat.

"Oooh, Sir…" Deacon gleamed. "I could get used to this."

As Sole began to adjust herself into his form, she realized he was fumbling in his attempts to figure out what he was doing. She couldn't help but smile at his naïve attempts, but she didn't want to make him feel anymore awkward than he clearly did. Sole slid her right hand into his left, holding it in the proper position. She then slid her left hand down the length of his muscly arm. Her fingers spidered around his hand so that she could force his palm to settle on the small of her back. Once she finally adjusted their form into something close to proper, they began to sway to the music.

It felt strange, yet unbelievably pleasant at the same time. Her frail form surrounded by his muscly one, made her feel safe in a way that she hadn't in a very long time. She could feel his unsteady breath on her face, the scent of it causing her to shiver. It was a mix of cigarettes and liquor, along with a musk that was very unique to him. She adored his scent, it was familiar and at the same time intoxicating. Inside his arm she felt comfortable, she felt at ease in a way she had forgotten. She felt like she was home.

"How'm I doing, Boss?" Deacon asked, a somewhat nervous glimpse dancing in his tone.

"Perfect," Sole complimented. "You would have fit into those old world novels like a glove. Just one thing…"

She reached her hands up to remove the darkened glasses from his face, then she slid them into the neckline of his shirt gently. In a momentary and rather rare occurrence, their eyes locked. It was as if she could see everything, all the thoughts and truths that he hid behind the ever present lies.

"Call me Sir again, would yah?" He grinned, breaking the tension that he couldn't seem to let settle.

"I'm gonna plant my foot in your ass…Sir!"

They both chuckled and before they knew it Deacons hands were gently resting on her waist. It was definitely one of those tense moments, where the desire filled the air with an obvious thickness. There was a moment when they looked into one another's eyes, where a knowledge breached their disguises. They knew that they felt the same, without saying it. The truth hung in the air and it was something neither of them could deny. These two railroad agents- who seemed to have a knack for mayhem and near death experiences- were unbelievably in love. Two people who no longer had a past, who would never admit the truth of who they were to the rest of the world. They wouldn't look to what was long gone anymore, and they wouldn't glimpse a dismal hope for the future. They would live for the present, the moments in between chaos and chivalry, and they would grasp it with everything they had. Without fear, without any semblance of regret- Deacon leaned in to press his shaky lips to Soles seemingly flawless mouth. The kiss lasted what seemed like forever, and yet at the same time it was like it never happened at all. It was almost like a dream, a moment they had been waiting for forever, and it was finally here.

Deacon peered down at her. His face was finally bare, his expression no longer hidden by sunglasses. Suddenly she realized why he wore the disguise constantly, even in front of her. His eyes were the most vulnerable and gentle thing about him. She could see everything inside those big orbs of sapphire. And she certainly liked what she saw.

"Any other lessons for me, Boss?" Deacons voice was low as it vibrated through the room.

"I have a few suggestions." Sole couldn't help but let a devilish smile grace her lips.

Deacon liked that.


End file.
